


Have Yourself a Merry (Not) Christmas

by EdgarAllanCat



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Hitting, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Penny has some problems, Pennyroyal, except it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9003544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllanCat/pseuds/EdgarAllanCat
Summary: It's not Christmas, but pretending like it is seems like a pretty good excuse for a party. Unfortunately, one person decides not to show up and Eliot has to force the (not) Christmas spirit on them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit rushed, but enjoy a nice little PennyRoyal Christmas drabble. Maybe next year I'll be able to do something better.

                It wasn’t Christmas. Not technically. Christmas in the world outside of Brakebills had already passed without any of the students noticing. It wasn’t Christmas, but it was the first snow fall and Eliot had determined that made it Christmas. It wasn’t clear what made Eliot decide things. It seemed that occasionally he just made decisions and went with them until he either burned out or someone stopped him. If he could find an excuse for a party he would have one. Despite the fact that no one else wanted to celebrate they were all standing back while Eliot went on a cocaine fuelled rampage. He hadn’t decorated, thank god, but he was preparing a feast that no one seemed particularly interested in but he insisted on cooking.

                The whole cottage smelled of cinnamon and honey ham. Quentin had been dragged into the kitchen to act as sous chef. This job mostly consisted of Eliot correcting him and doing most everything himself while Quentin acted as support. Eliot had rolled up the sleeves of his red button down and was carefully glazing the ham while Quentin watched on from the other side of the counter.

                There was a little bit of struggle as Eliot put the ham back into the oven and wiped his brow. He checked his watch and furrowed his brow. “The ham needs to be glazed every ten minutes,” he explained to Quentin. “We’ve got pie cooling, sides are made.” He brushed back his hair, walked out of the kitchen, looked over the commons, and walked back in looking frazzled.

                “You okay,” Quentin asked. “You seem a little…” He paused and struggled to find the right word for it. It was somewhere between ‘panicked’ and ‘annoyed’.

                Again, Eliot looked at his watch and walked back to check the commons. The invitations had clearly said five o’clock and now it was going on six-thirty. Despite her protests about it not ‘Being Christmas’ and about ‘Being Jewish’ and Eliot ‘Being insane;’ Margo was there. She had stuck with the holiday theme and dressed in a laced up red dress that fell just above her knees and black boots that came up just below her knees. Hell, even Alice was curled up in a chair in a dark green sweater. It wasn’t a big party, just a small get together, and Eliot was worried.

                “He should be here by now,” he mumbled as he stepped back into the kitchen.

                “Who?” Quentin asked as he watched Eliot start to pace.

                It didn’t make sense. Most everyone would be leaving for a short break the next day, there wasn’t class, there was no reason to miss an Eliot party if you were invited to one. “Who in our group uses male pronouns and isn’t here,” Eliot asked irritably. Dinner would be ready within half an hour and he didn’t have time to waste on waiting for someone to show up. “I’m going to go find him. You glaze the ham when the timer goes off.”

                Quentin immediately jumped up. “I’m not touching your ham. And who is so important that you’re leaving me in charge of the kitchen to find them?”

                The last thing Eliot wanted was to leave Quentin in charge of the kitchen. Quentin was cute, sweet, and amazing at magic; but, in a kitchen, he bordered on useless. “Penny isn’t here,” Eliot explained. “He has to be here.”

                Quentin’s expression changed from worried to mildly confused. “Why is Penny coming to dinner?”

                “It’s Christmas.”

                “It’s not Christmas. And he’s kind of…”

                Eliot smiled and shrugged. “No one should be alone on Christmas. Now, watch my ham, I have to go kidnap a psychic.”

                There was so much going on anyway that Eliot didn’t expect Quentin to understand. They were finishing  up with exams, deciding where to go for the short break, and dealing with their inevitable deaths at the hands of The Beast. No one wanted to celebrate Christmas except Eliot. Because Christmas was special. It was about spending time with your family, even if you had made that family out of broken pieces of other families. Quentin was going off campus with Alice during the break, Margo was going back to LA for a couple of days, and Eliot was…going to be alone. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to have a nice Christmas with his makeshift family, even if he had to force them. He wasn’t leaving Penny behind. Even if the psychic didn’t hang out in the cottage a lot he was invited and that meant he had to show up.

                Eliot went upstairs to his trophy chest. It didn’t contain awards for being able to spell really well or being extra good at swimming, but rather it contained a variety of items. There were prefect badges and belt buckles, a random collection of things he had stolen from his sexual conquests. He thought that, maybe, Penny just didn’t have anything to wear.  Thinking back on it Eliot couldn’t remember the first year ever actually wearing a shirt, so maybe he just thought he would be underdressed. Eliot could fix that. He dug through the chest until he found a red and while chenille sweater that was too big for him. It should fit Penny, even if it wasn’t that nice. If Penny hadn’t been so broad in the shoulders then Eliot would have just taken one of his own shirts. As it was, he folded up the sweater and put it in his bag.

                Bundling up in his coat Eliot grabbed his earmuffs off the side table and headed back downstairs. “Daddy will be back shortly, children. Don’t start without me!”

                Margo said something but Eliot was already heading outside. Snow fell in large flakes and the campus looked like a wonderland. Everything was perfectly still, as though the world was taking a day off to admire the beauty of the winter day. There wasn’t a trail made yet from students going from the cottage to class and Eliot had to trudge through the six inch deep snow. As beautiful as the snow was it made everything more difficult.  Eliot’s feet were freezing as his dress shoes didn’t provide much protection from the weather and despite his muffs his ears were numb. He was starting to wonder what had made him feel festive in the first place. Snow was pretty to look at and horrible to be out in. Penny had damn well better appreciate the fact that Eliot was freezing his ass off.

                The Psychic Cottage was uncomfortably stuffy. Someone had been burning sage and it made Eliot’s nose tickle and his head go dizzy. He felt claustrophobic walking through the commons. There were oversized chairs all pushed closely together as though people couldn’t handle being more than a few feet apart from each other. People were laid out, avoiding the snow, and having hushed conversations with each other. But Penny wasn’t among them. He wasn’t propped up in a chair with a cup of tea talking to a friend and Eliot hadn’t expected him to be. Honestly, he would have been shocked if Penny had been socialising.

                 Penny’s room was easy enough to find. It was the one with the big ‘Keep Out’ sign on it. Eliot rolled his eyes. Only Penny could be quite so dramatic about things. He knocked on the door and waited.

                A second later Penny opened the door. He definitely wasn’t dressed for the weather or dinner. In fact, all he was wearing was a pair of loose fitting sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to accentuate his figure. He looked Eliot over once and sneered. “Need something?” he demanded.

                “Yes. You.”

                “Can you say that in a way that it doesn’t sound gay?”

                “No, Penny. Everything I say sounds incredibly gay. I’m sorry, that’s just the way things are,” Eliot said, completely deadpan. “You’re late.”

                “Late to what?”

                Eliot blinked in confusion. He had sent out the invitations that morning, hadn’t he? He was certain he had because he had made them up as soon as it started snowing. He hadn’t forgotten about Penny, had he?  “You should have gotten an invitation to dinner,” he explained, hoping that he hadn’t forgotten. That would make the whole situation actually embarrassing and he would have to figure out an excuse for why he forgot.

                Penny scoffed and walked over to his desk. He bent down and reached into the trashcan, pulling out a red card with white lacing. Penny’s name was written in perfect calligraphy, courtesy of Margo. “Right, this thing? Yeah, it was hilarious. I’m sure you all had a big laugh about it. Now fuck off.”

                Now Eliot was really confused. So, he had sent out the invitation but…Penny didn’t seem to understand the point of it. Or he found a humour in it that Eliot hadn’t yet discovered. Maybe there was a perfectly hilarious typo in it somewhere. “I don’t see how an invitation to dinner is amusing. Fill me in on the joke.”

                Throwing the invitation back in the trash Penny rolled his eyes. He was puffed out like a rooster about to attack. “Yeah, very funny. I’m sure the joke would have been funnier if I’d actually showed up, yeah? You really thought I’d fall for that?” Did everything he say sound so angry?

                “It’s…Christmas…” Eliot tried to explain.

                “No, it’s not. And I know when I’m being made fun of,” Penny spat back. “So, you can fun back to the other lame-ass Physical kids and laugh about how you almost got Penny and how funny your little prank was. Me? I’m staying right the fuck here.”

                Oh. Things were starting to make sense. Penny wasn’t mad over a typo, he was mad because he, for whatever reason, assumed Eliot was fucking with him. Eliot let himself into the room, mostly just so Penny wouldn’t have the chance to slam the door in his face. Great, now he just had to do damage control and do it as nicely as possible. “Are you really that insecure?” he said before he thought about it. “Or are you so egotistical that you think we spend our free time thinking of ways to hurt you. Believe me, I have better things to do that require a lot less effort. Ruining your day, surprisingly enough, isn’t on my agenda. My agenda consists of having as much fun as possible as often as possible. You don’t even factor into—FUCK!”

                For a moment Eliot just saw spots. His vision cleared up quickly and he blinked, his hand reaching up to touch his face. His cheek was warm but it didn’t actually hurt too bad. It just stung a little. He stared at Penny in shock. “Trust me when I say that you do not want to fight me,” he warned.

                Penny’s jaw was clenched and he glared Eliot down as though silently challenging him. “Yeah, weird thing that happens, if you insult somebody they hit you. And I don’t appreciate people making fun of me. Seriously, whose idea was this? Quentin’s?”

                Eliot took a calming breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Actually, Quentin asked me why I invited you in the first place. It was my idea and it wasn’t to make fun of you or whatever self-absorbed reason you think you got an invitation. It’s Christmas. It’s dinner. You’re invited. Either come or don’t but don’t assume we’re making fun of you and don’t just hit people,” he finally managed to explain.

                There was a slight change in Penny. He dropped his shoulders and his glare softened a bit. It seemed to take a moment for him to process that the invitation wasn’t a joke and that Eliot really had invited him. “I’ll pass.”

                “Okay, that wasn’t actually an option,” Eliot said quickly and put his bag down on the bed. “If you’re worried about the dress code then I have a solution. It’s not exactly gift wrapped, but I did what I could given the time restraints.” He pulled out the sweater and held it out to Penny. “I mean, coming to dinner is the least you can do given that you hit me in my face. My adorable face.”

                Penny ignored Eliot’s statement about hitting him and just looked down at the sweater with a mix of confusion and desire. It bordered on being cute. “What’s this?”

                “It’s a gift. More specifically, it’s a sweater. I think it should fit. I haven’t really had the time to go through your closet and figure out your exact size, so I did what I could from memory. I…wasn’t exactly sure if you had a sweater or not.”

                “I don’t,” Penny said and there was something incredibly real in his voice. It was like the anger was just a mask and he was letting it fall just a little. He swallowed hard and looked away from the sweater and out the window. “Doesn’t seem…I don’t have anything to give you, though.”

                Eliot laughed and rolled his eyes. “That’s so not the point of Christmas, Penny. The point is to have dinner and get everyone so drunk they can’t see straight and end up making stupid decisions. You don’t have a sweater, I do, and you need it more than I do. It doesn’t even fit me. Don’t think of it as a gift. Think of it as me forcing you to abide by the dress code.”

                Instead of taking the sweater Penny stepped closer to the window and looked out, the glare returning to him. “I wasn’t planning on leaving the cottage at all. Not with two tons of white bullshit outside. It looks like a fucking Kanye concert out there.” Apparently this was a joke because Penny smiled slightly but Eliot didn’t get it.

                “Well, you can go somewhere warm over break, then. Back to Florida or whatever.” They were going to be so late to dinner and Eliot got the feeling that Quentin was absolutely ruining the ham. They couldn’t have a dry ham for Christmas.

                Penny laugh, dry and humourlessly.  “Yeah, right. There’s not really a lot in Florida that I can go back to. I’m probably not leaving campus for break.”

                “Me neither,” Eliot blurted out before he thought about it. “Completely off the record? This is probably the closest thing to a family I’ve had. Quentin, Margo…even Alice and, by some extension, you. I mean, we’re all going to die together, we might as well have one Christmas together.  I made a pie and there’s bourbon. So, you might as well come because we’re all going to die and you shouldn’t die without eating a meal I’ve cooked.”

                There was a slight hesitation before Penny seemed to realise something. He darted across the room and threw open his closet, kneeling down to dig through trash bags. Eliot watched him curiously, wondering what he had said that had made Penny search the trash and also question why Penny kept his garbage in the closet. After a moment, Penny stood back up and gave a heavy sigh.

                “You know, you got a coat and earmuffs, but you don’t have a scarf,” he pointed out. There was something almost shy in the way he was looking down at his hands. Finally, he threw a red and silver scarf at Eliot and crossed his arms, the anger returning. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just…something stupid. But I can’t take something without giving you something. Quid pro quo.”

                Eliot blinked and looked down, running his hands along the soft scarf. It wasn’t warm and  was wholly unsuitable for the weather, but it was still a nice gift. It did mean something, even if Penny didn’t admit it. Eliot wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it was definitely important. He had never seen Penny without a scarf on and Penny had given him one that matched his outfit. It was a part of Penny, far more important than a stolen sweater. It meant something incredibly kind and Eliot wished that he could articulate the meaning properly. Instead he just swallowed hard and looked back up. “Does this mean you’re coming to dinner?”

                Penny rolled his eyes and let out an overdramatic sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Turn around and I’ll change.”

                Grinning, Eliot turned and focused his eyes on the mirror. “We’re not in middle school. I’ve seen plenty of men naked,” he said as he watched Penny’s reflection.

                “Well, you haven’t seen me and we’re going to keep it that way,” he said as he stripped out of his sweatpants and left them in a heap on the floor. Wearing only dark blue boxers he knelt back to the trash bags and searched until he found a pair of black jeans.

                “We shouldn’t. You have a fantastic body.”

                “Are you hitting on me?” Penny snapped as he pulled his pants on.

                “You hit on me earlier.”

                “No, I literally hit you. There’s a huge difference between flirting and punching someone.” He pulled the sweater on and Eliot was pleased to see that it actually fit. Rather unfortunately, it hid Penny’s toned stomach, but there was always a great suffering in the name of fashion.

                Eliot turned back around and smiled, looking Penny over. Hell, he looked almost decent. He looked almost like a real person instead of a ball of anger. “Well, don’t you look dashing?”

                “How did you…” Penny’s eyes fell on the mirror and he rubbed his temples with his hands. “You little shit.”

                “That’s my name. Now, how about we head back to the cottage and pray to whatever God might listen that Quentin hasn’t managed to destroy the entire meal.” He offered Penny his hand which was casually ignored.

                “Yeah, I’m getting sick of dining hall food anyway. You, uh…the scarf looks nice.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Even though it isn’t Christmas…I guess Merry Christmas.”

                Eliot smiled and leaned down, lightly kissing Penny on the cheek and was absolutely shocked to find that Penny didn’t punch him again.  “Merry Christmas, Penny.”             

 


End file.
